On Tuesday, our country will decide the fate of Trumpism. The House is up for grabs and the Senate is fleetingly within reach. The nation mourns the loss of many in the Jewish community and yet grows more divided by the day. Our president does nothing to soothe the wounds. If anything at all, he cuts them deeper.
But I won’t be casting a ballot. Not because I don’t care, not because I’m not informed, but because there is no reason for me to vote. I live in a blue area, in a blue city, in a blue state. Local, state and federal officials are always won by Democrats, and there are no ballot measures in my home state. My vote would do nothing to affect anything.
Critics will argue this is a form of apathy shared by those of the younger generation. While there certainly is a problem with low voter turnout among millennials, my decision not to cast an absentee ballot is wholly unrelated.
The United States was not founded upon democratic voting principles. It was founded upon upper-class, white, male and federalist ones. The founding fathers we admire so dearly and the Constitution we treat as an almost religious document are far from the perfection taught in public schools.
The entire institution of the Senate is antiquated. It was built for a time when we were “States that were United” and not the modern “United States.” About 580,000 people live in Wyoming, a little over a fifth of the population of Brooklyn, New York. In California, there are almost 40 million people. Both — of course — have the same number of senators. There are many other states large in area but with few denizens. As Bill Maher occasionally remarks, why do we need two Dakotas?
You might judge this article as liberal, coastal elitism. Argue that a New York upbringing is far from the true Americanism that exists in the “heartland.” But fewer people live in the so-called heartland. I dare to remind you that the United States was founded by coastal elites. The heartland so longingly described was land bought and taken forcibly after the founding of the United States.
How do we change the unfair nature of the Senate, the gerrymandering of the House and the natural movement of immigrants and young people (the future) to already solidly blue states? Ratifying the Constitution to adapt the Senate for regional representation (the Northeast, Mid-Atlantic, Southeast, South, Great Plains, Midwest and West) would be my proposal. But I highly doubt it occurs in my lifetime, barring some unforeseeable event(s).
But what can happen is the creation of new states. Washington D.C., Puerto Rico and the American Territories should all be given separate statehood. People born and raised there are no less American citizens than those born in Columbus, Ohio, or Santa Fe, New Mexico. The only difference is that they are not represented in the federal government.
Let’s move on to Election Day. Every year it takes place on the first Tuesday of November after the first Monday of November. Why? Because of an outdated 1845 law passed because people (mostly farmers) had little access to polling stations. Weekends were poor choices because of the Sabbath, so Monday was the travel day for Tuesday’s voting. Quite ridiculous, but such is the American voting system.
While many states allow for early voting, 13 do not. Hourly wage workers, who tend to vote Democrat, are disenfranchised because they either lose pay, time at home, or are simply just too busy. So why don’t we officially abolish Columbus Day and establish a federal holiday on the first Tuesday after the first Monday of November? That’s currently done in Puerto Rico. Or we could move election day to be the election weekend. What’s the argument against making voting more accessible? Voter fraud is virtually nonexistent, despite what some Republican politicians might argue to further their derogatory practices.
Just because I didn’t choose to vote doesn’t mean others shouldn’t. If I lived in Austin, Texas, or Fort Lauderdale, Florida, I’d be rushing to the polls. But the undemocratic voting system that is ingrained in American political society prevents my vote from making a difference. Fortunately, in 2016, I had just turned 18 and was eager to vote. I voted in my first Democratic primary (for Hillary Clinton, not Bernie Sanders) and cast an absentee ballot because of a competitive state Senate election. But my vote for Clinton, like so many others in solidly blue states, simply did not matter. Elections are more about gaming the system than gaining popularity. But only until we decide to change the system.
